


verisimilitude

by ticoyuu



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, M/M, a little bit o angst i guess it's just par for course, ambiguously implied horrible childhood!hibiki, i dont think i actually hate ronaldo he's just very bull in a china shop, normie civilian genius!yamato, subtle & annoying & UUUUUUUUUGH as a nuclear fart but ultimately non-fatal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticoyuu/pseuds/ticoyuu
Summary: verisimilitude-- appearing believably true or real.Hibiki Hotsuin is a name lacking a face and intentionally shrouded in mystery. The apocalypse breaks out and ordinary, if highly above average, high school senior Yamato finds himself able to put both a name and face to the man he grows close to through this increasingly strange ordeal.(A roleswap AU with an increasing number of complicated and thoroughly unnecessary elements. Mostly standalone fics snapped from the same canon.)





	verisimilitude

**Author's Note:**

> things i learned exclusively for this fic: hitting someone with the butt of a rifle is called buttstroking (•_•)ง
> 
> aaanyway i've got a pretty extensive background for this au and dear god i would pay 10 bucks to have my ARBITRARY FLASHES OF INSPIRATION happen at a time that isn't perineum o clock sharp (10 bucks is at least 15 instant ramen packs and perineum o clock is slightly but not insignificantly past ass o clock) ....eeerrr anyway there's a lot of things that are just assumed canon in this fic and probably won't make sense without the backstory. sans spoilers in the hopeful case i write more in this au dhfhsdjkl, it's like this:
> 
> \- hibiki is the chief of jp's. there is totally a reason he has the hotsuin name :3/__/~ //hopefully, it will be revealed in proper fic and not ambiguously delirious A/Ns ..hnnghya  
> \- the amount of character development and bonding that happens in the span of a week is frankly boggling to me especially with massively THINKING EMOJI characters like some of the cast so in this au it's been extended to a 3 month..ish affair ..... tho i guess platonic fuck or die works too .. //tHINKING EMOJI  
> \- the plot basically follows canon except for the roleswap. yamato and hibiki are mutually intrigued and yamato proves increasingly integral & trusty in hibiki's schemes  
> \- a proper multichapter fic is probably way out of my ability, so any further fic will probably be in the same DROPS YOU ASS FIRST IN A SCENE WITH NO CONTEXT format uuuuguuu pwease fowgive me mastew uwu ..,nya  
> \- updates if any will be added as chapters! feel free to ignore the dumb chapter names, they're easier for me to remember hhhghghghg
> 
> ~less vague, more spoilery exposition in the end notes o)--(

The atmosphere felt crackling, like a spark waiting to go off. Physically, it could probably be chalked up to Phecda loading every cable in the Nagoya JP’s branch with alien electricity several weeks ago, but there was no denying the tension hanging between the leaders and trusted officers of both groups.

 

Or so they’d made it appear, at least.

 

Yamato, in his guise pretending to be JP’s Chief Hibiki Hotsuin, held himself with as much authority as he could muster. In school he’d always been seen as distant-- icily  _ above _ , if not outright someone to avoid-- so it was, all things considered, very convincing. Internally, however, he was faintly marveling at the  _ real _ Hibiki Hotsuin, standing behind the leader of the rioters in wrinkled casual clothes, fidgeting, trying not to appear nervous, and looking every part the average, anxiety-ridden civilian.

 

A week ago when several JP’s agents had been confronted by rioters with a message to deliver, Hibiki hadn’t seemed to have any sort of reaction. At the time Yamato had thought him a coldly tactical bastard even by his own standards, but now he had to wonder if he’d arranged Kanno’s capture and subsequent hostage bargain to begin with. The hostage herself certainly didn’t seem concerned, but to be fair, she looked exactly the same amount of annoyed whether possessed by a demon or just low on carbs.

 

The rioters’ leader, Ronaldo Kuriki, currently faced him two overturned desks apart with Hibiki and another figure several steps behind. Kanno’s wrists were roped behind her back and Hibiki had a gun pressed to the small of her back, gripping too hard and matching his mask of intense trepidation with the occasional tremor.

 

Yamato almost had to cough to avoid snorting out loud and giving away the ploy. Instead he settled for clearing his throat and aiming his best freezing stare at Kuriki.

 

“Return Kanno and then I will see that you have your.. chip,” Yamato said, his phrasing and intonation clearly not a question. The words flowed through a curled lip, projecting a hint of disgust.  _ Let him think he’s got one over us. _

 

Kuriki didn’t move a muscle aside from a subtle narrowing of eyes, and without his order, “Hiro” wouldn’t release the hostage either.

 

“You first,” the ex-detective said. Yamato noticed the total lack of intimidation or even irritation; rather his demeanor seemed almost impatient. Not the kind fueled by nerves, but the kind when one had something better they could be doing.

 

Yamato suppressed a sigh, the action mostly genuine, and held out a hand gloved with Hibiki’s white leather. “Sako, if you would…?”

 

All three of Hibiki’s generals were more informed than he was, but even so, Sako hardly needed any falsified anxiety as she strode forward with a soldier’s wary alertness, a slender rectangular suitcase in hand. He didn’t quite understand how the woman kept herself together with such a seemingly stressful job and a nature prone to worrying.

 

====

(Hibiki had called Kuriki’s perceived upper hand a dangerous lack of foresight.

 

_ “Do you know what adrenaline does to a person?”  _ he’d asked, and Yamato had frowned and replied, almost offended at the implication of not knowing such a basic thing--

 

_ “Yes. It is released as the body’s reaction to stress and heightens heart rate, blood pressure, and more in preparation for exertion.” _

 

Hibiki had actually laughed then, as if Yamato had told him straight-faced that no, adrenaline is the bacteria that makes your teeth fall out if you don’t practice good dental hygiene.

 

In comparison, Yamato hadn’t found it funny at all, and Hibiki had explained while chuckling like one of Yamato’s more  _ base _ classmates with a new fixation--

 

_ “Well, yes, you’re absolutely right--,” _ he’d agreed, then elaborated.  _ “--it heightens senses and physical ability while decreasing pain sensitivity. In addition, adrenaline from risking high stakes and succeeding is like a high. It can make you bold--” _

 

He’d smiled then, humorless; teeth exposed between slanted lips like a tiger giving warning.  _ “--it can make you blind and stupid as well.”) _

====

 

Sako placed the case on the desk closest to the rioters, her movements purposely slow as she unbuckled and laid the case open before returning to her prior position to Yamato’s left.

 

The terms for returning their rightly-perceived highly valuable general had been demanding and the timeframe harsh; supplies for survival as well as information were the biggest chips what remained of the entire world had in play at the moment.

 

And due to its role, JP’s naturally had the deepest treasury. Hibiki and his remaining generals, Sako and Yanagiya, were counting on the numerous questions that likely only JP’s could answer, as well as Kuriki’s background, to profit from his own plot.

 

(He wasn’t a tactician, he wasn’t someone who thought not one or two but  _ ten _ steps ahead of an opponent.  _ Most of all, he’s a former detective who thinks justice is as black and white as your righteous fury and the evil standing in your way.  _ Hibiki’s lips had curled at the corners as he debriefed them, and Yamato had thought it curious; Hibiki was free with his smiles and they usually ranged from quirky to friendly; sincere to totally oddball, but this.. this held a dark undercurrent, like trailing tendrils of seagrass reaching towards clear, sunny water from the darkest depths.)

 

As Sako retreated, one of Kuriki’s men peered into the case and removed a thin portfolio and flash drive, handing it over to his boss for scrutiny. The rest of the case was packed neatly with mostly medical supplies and a couple other things that had been in the terms. Those were both legit and fresh; Yamato personally wouldn’t have given salt to the enemy, as it were, but Hibiki could be as charitable as he was calculating. Yamato hadn’t figured out where the difference was defined.

 

Yamato couldn’t help the disdainful way his eyes narrowed as Kuriki’s subordinates immediately clustered around him to view the portfolio’s contents. As short as his time with JP’s had been, he’d really come to appreciate military structure and the efficiency it provided; unsurprisingly, the rioters were, well… rioters.

 

It was also blatantly obvious when they reached the pages with pictures of the void consuming Fukuoka and leaving a shimmering line of magnetite where the fallen tower still held vainly against the tide. Hibiki had predicted using printed documents with images would be useful, and he’d been right. All attention was on the folio’s contents alternating with wildly disbelieving glances at himself, Sako, and Yanagiya, with barely an iota spared towards “Hiro” and the hostage.

 

Yamato nearly did scoff aloud this time. _Discipline_ … _sorely_ _lacking._

 

It was a perfect, and perfectly believable, opportunity for the hostage to make a break for it. Kanno struggled dramatically and kicked her captor in the shin. “Hiro” loudly huffed out a pained gasp and dropped to his opposite knee, Kanno taking the opportunity to wrench her bound wrists free of his hold, and the white-knuckled hand gripping the gun was knocked uselessly to the side.

 

She gave him, crouched on the floor, an extra blow with the side of her calf for good measure before sprinting to Yamato’s side. Sako and Yanagiya immediately stepped in front of her in a fluid motion.

 

(Yamato held back from showing his surprise. There was no way Kanno didn’t know about her boss’s undercover spiel as Hiro, Kuriki’s most trusted-- but most mysterious-- subordinate… Kanno wasn’t muscular by any stretch of the imagination and Hibiki was way more solid than one would think at a cursory glance, but his shins  _ had _ to be stinging from that.)

 

_ “Damn!”  _

 

In the brief moments the fake struggle had gone on, chaos broke loose on the rioter side of the room. Kuriki shot a glare of pure murder at Yamato, but he held the eye contact, impassive and affecting a touch of scorn. In truth, he wasn’t intimidated-- the ordeal thus far had sucked out the fear from this kind of thing very, very early on-- but he did still feel a twinge of guilt for what was about to happen.

 

Kuriki cleared the distance between himself and “Hiro” in a few angry strides, swearing under his breath before crouching fluidly at his side. Hibiki was doing a very convincing job of feigning pain and a possibly broken ankle; few had seen Kanno’s break in detail, but they’d all heard the smack of flesh on flesh. Yamato hoped it was completely faked, at any rate.

 

In the meanwhile the crowd of rioters dispelled, swarming like confused fruit flies before settling in a loose formation around the two. None of them were stupid enough to try attacking the four of them-- “Chief Hotsuin” and his three generals-- and so remained on their side of the room; helpless, agitated and buzzing with anger. 

 

With Kuriki in such close proximity, it was as good as over. Yamato observed keenly, and beside him Sako, Yanagiya, and Kanno did the same with varying flavors of grimace.

 

The rioter leader started running his hand briefly over Hibiki’s ‘injured’ ankle, checking for damage. Yamato wasn’t surprised, he knew Kuriki had been a detective and assessing field injuries on the fly was a necessary skill. Unfortunately, it was exactly what Hibiki wanted. This was the pill that Yamato couldn’t fully swallow, this was the moment a man was stabbed in the back by an ally and sworn friend. In a single blink Hibiki had yanked the arm assessing his leg across his body and jammed his knee hard in Kuriki’s gut. 

 

The ex-detective was a lot bigger and sturdier than Hibiki, but the man’s own solid build only amplified the hit to his solar plexus with momentum and gravity.

 

Shock and pain flashed across Kuriki’s features as the breath was knocked of him. Fast as a whip, Hibiki swarmed atop and restrained him with all his weight on a cruelly twisted elbow. 

 

He set the gun to Kuriki’s back. The only sound in the next moment was a too-loud click as Hibiki flicked off the safety. Had none of them realized the gun had been muzzled the entire time? Did they think it unnecessary...? Or was it for her captor's perceived benefit?

 

Kuriki’s voice came loud and furious, an undercurrent of pain seeming to be the only indication he’d just taken a solid blow. “Hiro, what the hell are you doing?”

 

Hibiki had no words for the man he’d just betrayed, and in the gaze Yamato was so drawn to he saw only distance and sharply blue chips of ice. It took effort to not look away.

 

Then a wheezing laugh began to rattle from Kuriki, pinned to the floor but shaking with what Yamato could guess was shock. Shock, pain, rage, and  _ most of all _ , he thought,  _ powerlessness. _

 

The scene burned in Yamato’s mind, uneasy thoughts swirling vague and half-formed in his head of Hibiki’s many faces. Kanno looked the same as ever, mildly displeased. Sako and Yanagiya wore grimaces matching the twist in his gut, but likely for different reasons.

 

“You were fake this whole time,” Kuriki chuckled, his voice a cocktail of disbelief and all kinds of hurt. Bitterly, he ground out, “How much should I bet  _ Hiro _ never existed the whole damn time?”

 

“ _ Hiro _ , who’d lost his family and his hope and didn’t know how to hold a gun properly. Who frowned on some of the methods we employ to survive. I thought you’d shoot yourself in the foot the moment this was over.”

 

Yamato noticed he was either too breathless or bitter to break Hibiki’s hold.

 

When Hibiki did respond, it was in a calm tone, almost conversational, like the topic was the weather forecast. 

 

“Hiro’s real. Hibiki Hotsuin is also real,” he told him, fluidly shifting the gun in his grip. He now held it with his trigger finger safely outside the margin of error but also close enough to shift back in a heartbeat. The barrel lifted an inch before lowering in a controlled arc ending with an almost gentle tap between his shoulder blades. 

 

The threat was silent and well controlled but very real. Any trace of humor on either side had vanished and even to Yamato’s untrained eyes, Hibiki looked very familiar with both the tool and the concept it was designed for. Hells, Hibiki Hotsuin was dangerous even without his demons. Perhaps even moreso without the involvement of demons; fearsome and otherworldly as they were, if it was human against human... Hibiki was  _deadly._

 

Yamato wondered, again and with no small unease, what kind of secrets the JP’s Chief’s background held.

 

To his credit Kuriki didn’t seem surprised, but unease, nearly tangible, sparked among his group. By contrast, their leader, still under Hibiki’s knee literally and figuratively, only let out a resigned-sounding exhale. Yamato felt he could empathize somewhat with both.

 

The day he stood at Hibiki’s side with equal ability to toss aside their enemies would be the day he’d ask. Yamato was seventeen and Hibiki barely nineteen; neither of them should be seeing armed and demon-assisted conflict on the daily. Yamato’s biggest concern two months ago was exams followed by irritating classmates. Presumably, Hibiki’s had been more dire.  _ While we’re at it, the world shouldn’t be ending and incompetence and corruption shouldn’t be rotting through the government. Oh, and they’d have reliable internet outside of the special JP’s lines. _

 

Hibiki had slid off Kuriki’s pinned form and the rioter had been on his feet ready to defend in a flash, but Hibiki lowered the gun and stepped backwards towards Yamato and his generals, and they’d gone quietly, and Kuriki had let him leave.

 

====

“Is it fine that he now knows about Fukuoka?” he’d queried afterwards.

 

Hibiki had shrugged and replied, “I don’t really care,” and that had been that. It was an idle dismissal of both Kuriki and Yamato’s question, and  _ fair enough, _ he thought. 

 

After all, by conventional terms, a hidden surprise was neither hidden nor a surprise after its reveal. In addition, the deadline of Polaris’s Judgment nipping at their ankles guaranteed that soon it wouldn’t matter even if Kuriki became privy to the most confidential of matters.

 

Yamato did have to wonder if the JP’s Chief was as unaffected by the past hour’s proceedings as he seemed, though. Whatever else shouldn’t be taken as truth about Hibiki Hotsuin, the man was an excellent actor.

 

Two of Hibiki’s three generals seemed to be even more inappropriately lively than their youthful Chief still in dusty blue jeans and a wrinkled blue-and-white turtleneck with bold, bordering on obnoxious horizontal stripes. Yanagiya was cooing at her boss and Yamato couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not-- though that wasn’t unusual-- that he’d look  _ positively adorable _ next to Koharu and some plushies. The freshly liberated hostage commented that casual pics of him might appeal instead to an older and distinctly less wholesome crowd.

 

Sako had turned red and scolded her unflappable companions, and that was when Yamato tuned the background chatter out to instead follow Hibiki with his eyes as the Chief strode towards the waiting members of his volunteer retinue who were  _ actually _ high schoolers and civilians. He looked for all the world like one of them.

 

Yamato couldn’t reconcile such a carefree persona with the memory of JP’s Chief Hibiki Hotsuin calmly shrugging off his false identity, shifting the gun he’d held with affected white-knuckled tremors just moments before, into practiced ease and perfectly still, offering the threat of pistol whip or shot-- and he’d done it like an average person reached for the salt shaker at dinner-- still clear in the back of his mind.

 

With that in mind, the long, black coat hugging his taller frame and swishing at his shins felt suddenly prickly and stiff. Despite Yamato’s personality and genius generally isolating him in social environments-- and he’d enjoyed it that way-- he didn’t fit the image that oozed authority and cold indifference like oil. Yet somehow, Hibiki did perfectly, and also fit seamlessly into the chaotic banter of the four from Nagoya and Osaka along with Akie and Yamato’s two classmates.

 

Perhaps that was how he’d charmed his way into the rioters’ trust.  _ Hiro is real, _ he’d said.  _ Hibiki Hotsuin is also real. _

 

It made him wonder what other secrets the JP’s Chief was purposely withholding. Dwelling on it; theorizing what kind of upbringing had forged Hibiki that way at only a year or two older than Yamato himself made him feel suddenly weak with no explanation. 

 

...It was profoundly unsettling.

 

====

It was late in the evening hours when Hibiki showed up in Yamato’s room, bouncy and unannounced. Leaning in heedless of Yamato’s withering glance, he whispered confidentially,

 

“Only the first couple files are even remotely useful. The rest are all Jungo Two being adorable and some dramatically gourmet chawanmushi pics. Some takoyaki as well, I think, maybe one or two of Mt. Fuji erupting.”

 

Hibiki tilted his head mischievously. “I dunno what’s in all of them, actually. The reports in particular; I asked your friends--” he shushed Yamato’s rebuttal before he’d even opened his mouth, “--to write up some  _ fun, enriching _ material for ‘entertainment and morale’. I glanced over all of them.”

 

Yamato had the distinct feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever  _ fun enrichment _ minds like Shijima and Akie came up with, though he found Nitta to be the sensible type. Usually.

 

The esteemed and secretive Chief of JP’s, known to most only as a name to be feared with the face of a wraith, intangible as mist, then grinned at him with mischief bordering on the malicious. In the moment, Yamato didn’t know if he found this Hibiki more unsettling or the distant, dangerous one who had wilfully betrayed Kuriki and his kindness.

 

“You know, Joe really gave it his best effort at a steamy RPF. He needs an editor, though.” 

 

“Thank you for this vital information,” Yamato returned, expression and tone dryer than a cicada husk in midwinter and fully aware of it. ‘RPF’ was an unfamiliar term, but knowing the context he likely didn’t care to know regardless.

 

Hibiki asked him another question out of the blue; studying him, blue eyes sparking with humor. With him it was always questions phrased like statements and statements with a hidden inquiry-- a whirlwind of conflicting facets, Yamato thought idly-- and awaited the Chief’s next words.

 

“One more thing, you don’t seem the type to enjoy being tied down and tonguefucked--”

 

\--The sound that escaped him at that was somewhere between Jungo Two hacking up a hairball and Shijima’s sputtering defense of his hobbies.

 

_ “Hibiki!”  _

**Author's Note:**

> \- hibiki has been cultivating an ominous mystery to go along with the name 'hibiki hotsuin'. the face that actually goes with that name is extremely confidential knowledge, less confidential outside of jp's upper echelons is hibiki occasionally bouncing around as 'hiro', a friendly yet average mystery who shacked up with civilians and is seemingly in everyone's good graces.. oh, and laughs at bad puns  
> \- fumi is being held hostage by rioters and the exchange of their general for supplies and info is at the nagoya branch office. this is approximately around when ronaldo pulls a gun on makoto in canon  
> \- due to the fact hibiki's appearance is a total mystery, he dresses yamato up and sends him as 'hibiki', while he fixes the odds on the other side as 'hiro'
> 
> \- the verisimilitude of any given query is up to one's interpretation (translation: i dont know what th fuck i got myself into h elp)
> 
> \- lastly and leastly this a/n is way less delirious (on the surface) bc for once i'm not posting at ass o clock \O/ i'm geckcellent @tumblr, as always here is my obligatory & tired geck brand(tm) desperate shill: feel free to hmu!! DMs, comments, anon, whatevaaa


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